


Somewhere in her head was something beautiful

by orphan_account



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Bittersweet Ending, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, Physical Abuse, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-24 20:15:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6165418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She cried.<br/>She stopped crying the next day, and did not cry since.<br/>Because somewhere in her head, there was something beautiful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Somewhere in her head was something beautiful

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this because I really enjoy Rey's friendship and camaraderie with Finn, and I just want my three space children to be happy.
> 
> Also, I sort of wrote this as a response to a lot of anger I have been feeling lately.

Somewhere in her head was something beautiful.

Kylo Ren stood in front of her— _the enemy_ , her mind hissed—hair falling in front of his face, his eyes locked with hers. He occasionally glanced at her hands, no doubt recalling the power she concealed beneath her skin. Danger radiated from his frame, but it was hidden beneath a veneer of calm. His face was impassive, and it scared her.

“You will not be able to leave,” he intoned in a low voice.

She glared up at him from where she was seated, her hands bound before her. Though she was trapped, she did not hunch in over her body, but rather sat with an almost feral curl to her posture, as if preparing to strike.

He struck first—with a swiftness that vibrated in his very frame, he lunged to her, grasping her face in his gloved hand and tugging until her neck was stretched and her teeth bared. She did not make a sound. She met his eyes.

There it was—that danger she had been waiting for. She told herself she would not cry. She did not look away.

He examined her, his eyes flicking across every one of her facial features in a way that made her falter, her hands beginning to shake. Her mind flew to memories she would have rather left lurking in the dark—would rather not have relived, not as anything but a distant sensation associated with a ghost long dead.

He dropped her, thrusting her away from him, and she hit the wall with a loud clang, her shoulder crying out in pain. She tried to calm her breathing and watched him. Even on the floor, rattled as she was, she was poised for the kill.

He stared at her long and hard, almost thoughtlessly, as if seeing through her. Then, he turned and left the room.

She watched the door for a long while, afraid to move lest he return. Then, she crawled to a corner of the room, gritting her teeth in pain as she moved. When she finally had her back to the corner and the door well within view, she leaned her head back, closing her eyes. The adrenaline was failing her; she was growing tired, or maybe she’d always been tired—she wasn’t sure. As her shoulder throbbed and her cheeks ached, she told herself she would not cry.

She cried.

She stopped crying the next day, and did not cry since.

Because somewhere in her head, there was something beautiful.

Long nights in the cell with nothing but a fluorescent light morphed into summer days spent in the sun. Aches and pains of abuses and torments transformed into the pleasant burn of a hard day at work, or an accident from wrestling. Hateful, empty eyes staring straight into hers transformed into dark eyes smiling at her, calling her a friend, worrying about her, or another pair of dark eyes, equally concerned, just as full of laughter, but also confident and steadfast. Hands on her arms and bruises on her wrists turned into friendly cuffs on the shoulder and a hand reaching for hers.

She told herself she would not cry. She told herself, “this pain is not forever.” She told herself a lot of things, and when she was not glaring down her enemy, unflinching in her beliefs, then her eyes were closed. Yes, she would survive.

Because somewhere in her head, there was something beautiful, and it was waiting for her to come home.


End file.
